The Jade Room
by Slow Moving Minnie
Summary: Dr Watson is called to the bedside of a young lady suffering from a mysterious illness. He calls his friend Sherlock Holmes to assist and soon he uncovers a strange tale of obsession, dark secrets and danger hiding in plain sight...
1. Recondita armonia

Of the many and various cases which were brought before my friend Sherlock Holmes, it was most fortunate that he and I, his conscientious recorder, had to experience the true depths of evil of which the human condition is capable as rarely as we did. Nevertheless, when we did have to confront it in its many forms, it always left a sense of horror such as I will never forget. What always shocked me to the heart, more than any other feature, was the inherent contradiction between the fierce irrational rage and the calm deliberation and logic applied to the task of removing the cause of the rage. One such case that demonstrates this is, is one I have not yet published and which I am about to relate. The reason for my silence was recently removed by a certain Miss Alexandra Wilding, the famous opera singer, who has finally given me permission to publish my account of the case, in which she is deeply involved. I would also like to congratulate Miss Wilding on her recent engagement to a most estimable gentleman of my closest acquaintance.

It was the June of '04, at that time in the evening when a man begins to think of his upcoming evening meal, when there came a sharp knock at the door. 'Who can that be, at this time?' remarked my wife in a quizzical voice, glancing at the clock. We heard the door open downstairs, frantic footsteps on the stairs to our living room, and in burst my old university friend, Joseph Wilding. 'My dear Wilding!' I exclaimed standing up to greet him, but the rest of my greeting stuck in my throat as I beheld his whitened face, and pallid expression.

Joseph Wilding was a tall man, with a rounded oval face, neatly cropped and combed sandy yellow hair and sharp features that had somewhat softened with age and good living since I had last seen him. He had studied mathematics and economics at the University of London whilst I was studying medicine and we had soon become companions, bonding over our shared taste in good food. He had since become a profitable banker and had taken up a very senior post at none other than the Bank of England. Now he stood before me, looking like a man struck down with grief and worry. 'What is it, my dear Wilding?' I said.

'Can you come at once, with me, Dr Watson, I am in great need of your expertise, I shall explain on the way.'

'Why, of course.' I exclaimed, and within twenty minutes, I was inside the carriage he had waiting outside and on the way to his home. 'Well,' said I, 'for what can you need my services with such urgency?'

Jospeh Wilding started as if jerked from a reverie of fear. 'Of course. You will remember that five years ago I met and married a widow, and took her two daughters, both of whom took my name when I married their mother, as my own. There is Victoria, the elder who is now eighteen and very recently married and the younger, Alexandra, who is now sixteen. Recently, Alexandra, has fallen horribly ill with a terrible infection for the third time in a year, and none of us have the remotest idea what the matter is, so this night I decided to seek help of the most expert medical mind of which I am aware which is yourself, Watson.' I confess I was flattered by Wilding's consideration of myself as the greatest medical mind of his acquaintance but was equally concerned at his worry and his description of his stepdaughter's ailment. 'What afflicts your stepdaughter?' said I, 'How does the illness manifest itself?'

'It begins with the most terrible pains in her head, she becomes confused and so weary that she can hardly participate in any activity of any nature. Then, within a few days, she suffers terrible convulsions and cramps of the abdomen which one can scarcely behold. She fell ill for the third time two days ago and so has not experienced yet the terrible convulsions characteristic to the sickness. We have consulted countless doctors but so far no one has been able to shed any light on the illness. Fortunately, on the previous two occasions, Alexandra has recovered but I believe it is beyond her strength to recover again without the help of modern medicine. So I have come to you to beg you to come and save her.'

I was most struck by his apparent great concern for this Miss Alexandra Wilding of whom he just spoken, who was after all, only his stepdaughter but I promised him that I would endeavour to the greatest of my abilities to treat the young lady in question.

Within an hour, with the carriage being driven worryingly fast and causing me some alarm as to my old friend's state of mind and that of his coachman, we arrived at the Wilding house, which was a substantial house, situated in a particular area of Chelsea known for its wealthy inhabitants. The house was built in a style favoured about halfway through the previous century, which showed me just how successful my friend Wilding had been in his banking career. We got out of the carriage and went inside the house, where we were met by Wilding's wife whom he introduced to me as Ksenia Wilding. She was a woman of the greatest beauty, despite her age being of about forty-five, with curled golden hair, a pure white complexion, wonderfully soft features and eyes of the palest azure. At least in one respect my old friend, had not changed; his reputation of being a man with a great love of female company had been was well established by the time he had graduated from the university at which we had both attended. However, despite her beauty, Mrs Wilding's gold and white appearance seemed to me at least, to a kind of shield or mask, that hid the fact that she was clearly a woman capable of great emotion and self control. She met me with a polite smile but seemed somewhat perturbed by my presence. 'I am afraid, Dr Watson', she said, taking my arm as she walked me to the room of the young lady, 'that we may have put you to some inconvenience. I am sure that little Sasha's illness is of no real concern and if it were up to me, or had Joseph consulted me before going to you, I would have saved you such a wasted journey.'

'From what your husband has told me, Mrs Wilding,' said I, 'I think your daughter's illness is of some concern and my journey will not have been wasted.' Privately, I pitied the poor woman, who was clearly trying to deny the severity of her daughter's illness to preserve her composure and remain a pillar of support for both her husband and her daughter, unlike Wilding himself, who seemed to have collapsed into pit of concern and worry for his stepdaughter. By the end of this exchange the three of us were on the first floor. 'Here is the poor girl's room,' said Wilding, opening the second door on the right hand side of the corridor and leading me and Mrs Wilding inside and there, lying pale as death on the bed was my patient.

There were two things that struck me in that room.

The first, was the occupant of it. If her mother was beautiful, Alexandra Wilding if not the most beautiful, was without a doubt the most striking girl I had ever seen, a girl whose appearance would catch and keep the attention of even the most casual observer. She was certainly no delicate beauty but she had vibrant silky black hair, a prominent classical nose, full symmetrical rosy lips despite the severity of the illness from which she suffered, and large expressive black eyes all set in a sharpened pale face. Her whole countenance suggested strength of character, an independent spirit and a tendency to passion which I found it both surprising, in a girl of only sixteen and disturbing in the obvious power her appearance had and would have over men of every age and class, which far surpassed the effect of even the most perfect beauty.

The second was the state of the room itself. Every surface from the dressing table to the armchair was covered with little possessions such as jewellery, brooches, porcelain ornaments, sweets, and all manner of things that a young girl would delight in. However it did occur to me that not even the most indulgent young woman, which Miss Alexandra Wilding certainly was not, would want such an wanton excess of possessions. The walls were covered in a wallpaper of a bright emerald green which seemed to cast it's green ligt over every white surface in the room, including the skin of Miss Wilding, giving her ivory complexion an unhealthy green tinge.

Wilding went over and knelt beside the bed, placing his hand on Miss Wilding's silky head, upon which she turned away. 'She has become confused again,' he said quickly, 'she doesn't remember who I am.'

'I know exactly who you are.' Replied Miss Alexandra Wilding sharply in a high, harsh voice. 'There is no need to blame insanity for my lack  
of reciprocal affection'. I realised that Mrs Wilding, unlike her husband, was still standing by my side and not gone to tend her so clearly ill daughter.

'Now then,' said I, 'to examine Miss Wilding, I would be very grateful if you both leave the room for a moment.' When both Wilding and his wife protested strongly, I persuaded them that patients respond much better when the exact details of their ailments remain confidential between themselves and their doctor. When they had both left I examined her and asked her a variety of questions about her feelings and responses. When I had satisfied myself with her answers and my examination, I gave her a solution to help her sleep before returning to her anxious parents outside. 'I cannot give any definite answers as to what the cause of the illness is as of yet,' said I, 'but I will return tomorrow and study the progress of the affliction.'

'Can you give us no satisfactory answers yet?' Said Wilding restlessly.

'Alas, no,' said I, 'I dearly wish I could.'

But as I left the Wilding household after having made arrangements to call on my patient at three in the afternoon the next day, I was not at ease. There was something exceptionally odd about Miss Wilding's illness that struck me deeply. In my long medical experience, people rarely contracted the same sickness on three separate occasions, as the body learnt to defend itself against the same infection, let alone no one else in the household contracting the same illness. I felt as I took cab home, that something was very wrong in that house.


	2. Che gelida manina

The next morning, I decided to call upon my friend Sherlock Holmes. The strangeness of Miss Wilding's affliction had greatly affected me and both sleep and appetite had inevitably evaded me. I had not seen him for some weeks and was eager for his opinion of the matter. I found him, sitting in his favourite armchair, hugging his knees, a pipe in his mouth and his eyes closed and eyebrows knitted in thought. He greeted me as casually as was his custom when in one of those fits of torpor and inaction that were characteristic of him when he found no mystery with which to occupy his mind. I also observed, with some disappointment that his dejected manner and fatigued countenance were not all attributable to his boredom alone, but to one of his less savoury habits.

'To what do I owe this pleasure Watson?' said he, slipping the unmistakeable morocco leather case in the pocket of his dark red silk dressing gown. Trying to ignore his actions and their implications I replied, 'I find myself in a most puzzling and difficult situation.'

'Oh?' said he.

'An old friend from university, a Joseph Wilding, has asked me to treat his stepdaughter, a Miss Alexandra of the same name, who suffers from a most exceptional affliction. It is a terrible illness, making her confused, nauseous and most weary and progressing into horrific convulsions of the whole body. What is most perplexing is that she has contracted the same illness on three separate occasions, which is completely opposed to the nature of natural maladies, as is the fact that although the illness is so infectious in relation to the lady herself, no one else in her household has contracted the same illness.'

Holmes looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyebrows knitted once again and his fingertips pressed together under his chin. Then he looked back at me, with something approaching a smile on his face. 'I dare say Watson,' said he, 'you are telling me all this in the hope of recruiting me to investigate this little affair.' I was startled.

'I assure you Holmes, I am not.'

'There's no need to look so affronted Watson,' said he smiling, 'Anything is better than this stagnancy in which I find myself.'

'I can see.' Said I stiffly. Holmes frowned.

'I know you disapprove of my common recreation when I am in such a state Watson, but the use of cocaine injections are the only things that can both stimulate my mind and occupy it when I have no puzzles laid before me for solution. However I am more than happy to take on this little obscurity that you present to me. You are right that the whole affair which you present to me seems to suggest something uncanny.'

I thanked him for his offer of help, and made arrangements to pick him up at 221b Baker Street before going on to the Wilding house.

So it was that just before three of the clock that same day that myself and Holmes were in a cab heading for the Wilding home. I eagerly answered all his questions about the Wilding household; my acquaintance with and the character of Joseph Wilding himself, the details of his marriage and the family he had gained by it. When we arrived, it struck me that when I introduced Holmes, on the pretext that he was here to help me to cure his stepdaughter; his face showed a combination of gratitude and something like jealousy. 'Sherlock Holmes?' he repeated after me. 'I've heard a lot about you, Mr Holmes,' he said shaking my friend's hand. 'They say you can detect anything, no matter how obscured.' My friend smiled,

'You are too kind, Mr Wilding. I'm only too happy to make a humble contribution to solving your trouble,' in that ingratiating tone he did so well.

We went inside where we were met by a well dressed young man of slim build, small nervous head, a small light brown moustache and matching hair, who was holding the hands of Mrs Wilding in both an intimate and comforting at the top of the stairs. When they saw us, they both came down. The young man introduced himself as Alfred Stoker, the husband of the elder of Wilding's two stepdaughters, Victoria who was upstairs with her sister. Mrs Wilding seemed even more agitated by the presence of my friend than she had been by mine alone. 'Surely Mr Holmes' said she, 'this little affair is of little interest to a man of your standing', she said, 'and all of you are surely putting Sasha under an undue amount of stress for a girl in her weak condition.'

I assure you Mrs Wilding' said Holmes, 'my inquiries will be as unobtrusive and as considerate to the weakened condition of young lady as it is possible for them to be.' Mrs Wilding seemed somewhat comforted. 'Perhaps if this is to be achieved,' said he, 'only Watson and I should go up to her chamber.'

'Sasha cannot be alone with so many men!' exclaimed Wilding, showing considerable consternation.

Holmes held up his hands, 'The lady is with her sister Mr Wilding, therefore hardly alone and we will not disturb her recovery for long.'

And so we went up to the chamber of Miss Wilding, where we found the striking dark creature of before, this time fast asleep, with another young lady who was an exquisite gold and white copy of her mother and was revealed as her elder sister Victoria. They looked like a pretty pair of dream sisters. I also noted with some satisfaction that the appearance of the darker Miss Wilding had also had an effect on my friend who was regarding her with considerable favour and complacency. However, he quickly turned away from her and began to stealthily walk around the room with his magnifying lens, examining every particular of the room. 'What is he doing?' Miss Victoria asked me. 'I know little of his exact action,' said I, 'but be assured that is all he does is for your sister's benefit.'

'I am so concerned for her,' said she, 'the last two times this affliction has struck her, it was before my marriage and so I was still living here and I took her into my chamber so that I could care for her day and night.' Holmes suddenly stood up. 'On the last two occasions on which the illness has struck, you removed your sister from this room and into your own?'

'Yes,' said she, bewildered at the strength with which Holmes asked the question.

'And on the two previous occasions your sister recovered?'

'Yes, Mr Holmes, she did.'

'Only after she was removed from this room and into your own.'

'Yes, but we assumed it was just the course of the illness.' Holmes laughed shortly. The sudden noise caused a stir from Miss Alexandra, who had all this time remained asleep. She looked around with a mix of confusion and reassurance around at us, acknowledging her sister with a weak smile. 'How are you feeling Miss Wilding?' I enquired.

'I feel my condition has somewhat improved Dr Watson. And who is this?' she asked turning to my friend.

'This is Mr Sherlock Holmes,' said I, 'who has kindly offered to assist me in finding a lasting solution to your problem.'

'You are Sherlock Holmes?' said she with some surprise. 'The Sherlock Holmes?' My friend smiled at the admiration in her voice, as he was always pleased when flattered on his reputation or abilities, especially from a girl who had already clearly had such an effect on him. He came forward and knelt beside the bed, taking one of the young lady's hands tenderly between his own. He examined them for a moment and sighed with a hint of severity, for which I saw no cause. Then he looked up and gestured around the room. 'Of these many possessions, you have acquired very few of them yourself, have you?'

'No,' said she, rather hesitantly, 'they were gifts from my stepfather.'

'Sasha has always been his favourite,' said Victoria Wilding.

'But have you not only known him for three years? The sheer bulk of these gifts suggest you have been the apple of stepfather's eye for all of thirty, not a mere three.'

Neither of the two girls replied, looking at us blankly, clearly having no response to the words of my friend. Holmes shook his head and stood up again. 'I rather think you will need to rest Miss Wilding, if you are to have any chance of recovery.'

'I agree with the gentleman, 'said the elder Miss Wilding, 'you need to rest, Sasha.' As she stood up and left the room for a moment to get her sister a glass of water, Holmes leaned over the bed and whispered to Miss Wilding, 'Is there a time when we can call upon you at this house, with no member of the household present?'

She thought for a moment. 'Tomorrow, around 9. The entire household are required by my mother, the lady of the house, to attend church. I am only excused due to my illness.' Holmes nodded his approval.

'We shall call upon you then.' He looked up as the elder sister returned with a refreshing glass of water for her sister.

We left Miss Victoria tending her ailing younger sister and stood outside for a moment. 'This is a dark matter indeed,' said Holmes quietly, 'I am most relieved that I have been able to attend this matter, or it may have had a most unhappy outcome and if we do not move fast, that most dreadful of outcomes may still come to pass.' He was interrupted by a shout from downstairs. We both ran downstairs and found a most extraordinary scene. In the family living room, there was Wilding himself and none other than Alfred Stoker, brawling like drunks locked in some vicious quarrel, oblivious to the clear distress of Mrs Wilding who was stood, crying and begging them to cease. 'Gentleman!' cried Holmes, in some astonishment, clapping his hands, producing a high crack of a sound which caught the attention of the two men.

'Watson,' he said to me, when room had fallen into a stunned silence, 'attend Mrs Wilding, she seems to be in considerable distress. Gentlemen, calm yourselves. Mr Wilding, I suggest you retire and regain your composure. Mr Stoker, I would be most grateful if you would stay and clear a few matters for me.' His commands were soon followed, as he always had such a commanding and assured manner when issuing them and Mr Stoker sat down where Holmes and I joined him. 'Pray,' said Holmes, 'what was the cause of your quarrel with your father-in-law that was so strong that is induced you to come to blows?' Mr Stoker appeared to have some difficulty in answering my companion's question.

'It, well, I suppose it is the illness of my wife's sister, that has put us under such stress and strain that even the smallest disagreements seem most drastic.'

'You are fond of your sister-in-law?'

'Oh yes, it is impossible not be when married to her greatest friend, that is her sister.'

'Have you called on her during this newest bout of her affliction?'

'As of yet Mr Holmes, I have not.'

'Despite your fondness for your sister-in-law?'

'Well, my wife and myself were only made aware that Alexandra had become ill again this very morning. When my wife demanded that she should come here immediately to attend her sister, I myself felt compelled to attend and comfort my poor dear mother-in-law, Ksenia, who has been so distraught by Alexandra's illness that she has required my care from this morning onwards, and she has forbidden me to leave her.'

'Did her husband not make any effort to cheer her?'

'No Mr Holmes, he has been quite consumed with worry about his stepdaughter and is unable to think about anything else.'

'I see.' Said Holmes. 'Thank you, Mr Stoker, that is all I require of you for the moment.' As Holmes seemed satisfied with the situation for the moment, we excused ourselves and left the house.

Once we had hailed a cab and the Wilding house was a few streets away, Holmes, whom I could tell had already made some decision about the case pulled a small vial from his breast pocket in which there were contained a few strands of dark brown hair. 'The lady's hair,' said Holmes, 'I was able to extract some from her pillow. My testing of the hair will doubtless either confirm the suspicions I have already accumulated, or show that I am quite mistaken. I must say, for once, I am half hoping that I am.'

'What do you suspect?' said I, 'I certainly saw nothing beyond a strange infection and a distressed household.' Holmes, ignoring my question, continued his speech.

'It's a queer thing Watson, when one is not investigating a murder already committed and the victim's body is cold in a mortuary, but suspecting that one is instead trying to prevent it and being forced to watch the living, warm blooded victim succumb, being able to do little. Especially when the victim is such as singular young lady as Miss Alexandra Wilding, who is clearly a woman of character and energy.' I sat, paralysed with shock that Holmes should speak of suspecting murder, when none were in the process of being committed as far as I could tell. I spent the rest of the journey trying to pry some kind of answer from him, but each time he deftly changed the subject until I reluctantly gave up, and before long the cab arrived at 221b Baker Street and he had disappeared inside.


	3. Gelo che ti di foco

It was around half past eight the next morning and I was finishing my breakfast when I received one of Holmes terse little notes, that appeared to have been written in a state of considerable excitement and that caused me some alarm. 'Come at once, the young lady's life may depend on it - SH.' When I had rushed through the rest of my breakfast and called to my wife that I would be out for some time, I arrived at Baker Street. I was somewhat disconcerted to find him looking surprisingly cheerful, in complete contrast with the expression of the note, standing fully dressed beside a table on which there appeared to be a most remarkable experiment, all test-tubes and steam. 'I have it,' said he.

'What is it that you have discovered?' said I.

Ignoring my question he began to swiftly move around the room, throwing all manner of strange things into a black Gladstone bag, including a watertight glass of some transparent liquid, a small strip of copper and some strips of paper, addressing me all the while, 'Becoming ill once is unexceptional, becoming ill twice is unfortunate but becoming ill with the very same infection, begins to look like carelessness. And now Watson, we have an appointment to keep.'

When we knocked on the door of the Wilding house, there came no answer, but a noise of a window opening came from above caught our attention. When we both looked up, it was the face of Miss Alexandra Wilding that met us as she looked down from a first floor window. She disappeared from the window and the next moment, a small metal projectile landed at our feet. 'Watson!' cried Holmes, 'she has thrown us the key.' He picked it up and unlocked the door and as we entered the living room we beheld Miss Wilding standing at the top of the stairs, smiling in a way that revealed her happiness and contentment to see us. She seemed remarkably agile for a woman suffering from such a serious complaint as that we had observed the previous afternoon as she came down the stairs and greeted us which I remarked upon, 'Are you feeling better, Miss Wilding?'

'Oh yes,' said she, 'I feel much better once I am out of my room.'

'That is rather odd, do you not think?' said Holmes. 'That you, who were so ill yesterday when prone, should seem almost recovered when active.'

'Perhaps it is exercise that will cure me.'

'Perhaps, but it not is the activity of exercise that you have been pursuing whilst your family and servants have been absent, is it?'

Miss Wilding showed some surprise and laid her hand upon her breast in shock. 'Whatever do you mean Mr Holmes,' she asked.

'I admit,' said he conspiratorially, 'that you have covered the scent remarkably well, but I, partly as I am a fellow smoker, can still detect the unmistakeable scent of smoke upon your person, Miss Wilding. You have been smoking.' He leaned forward and drew in a deep breath. 'Joy's Cigarettes I'll wager.'

I was surprised as such a sudden accusation and was about to protest when Miss Wilding replied in a defeated tone,' Very well, Mr Holmes, you are quite correct. I have found that smoking is, since mother's remarriage, my only pleasure.'

'What could drive you to partake in smoking as a recreation?' said I but before she could answer, Holmes broke in.

'I do not judge you for using tobacco, Miss Wilding, I only ask that you give me a box of the cigarettes that you have been using for me to examine. A careful analysis of all materials that come into contact with yourself may yet prove useful in solving this mystery.'

'Very well,' said the young lady, taking a brightly decorated box of Joy's Cigarettes out of a pocket of her purple dressing gown and handing it to him. 'Now then,' said Holmes, 'would you be so kind as to tell me if you have eaten recently?'

Miss Wilding seemed rather taken aback at Holmes' question. 'Actually, no. I find that during spells of this illness, I am little disposed to eat. But alas, that does not stop the entire household offering me food; I have a bowl of turtle soup upstairs that was forced upon me by my mother that is as yet untouched and shall remain so.'

'I had hoped so. Would it trouble you to show us upstairs in that case.' Miss Wilding responded in the affirmative and led us upstairs, where sure enough upon the bedside table there sat a little bowl, prettily decorated with a design of a pack of wolves chasing a horse drawn sleigh around the edge, that contained soup that had about a half hour ago been quite an appetizing meal but had by now degraded into a cold green slimy liquid. Holmes took no notice of the ruined soup and proceeded to set up the equipment he had brought with him from Baker Street on the young lady's dressing table, sweeping aside many of the small gifts that lay there, without a single word of protest from the young lady, who clearly valued little the gifts from her stepfather. We both watched with great curiosity as Holmes bustled about setting up his apparent experiment. Finally, after much preparation, he took a spoonful of the former soup and dropped it into the glass of transparent liquid which from which he had unscrewed the to and sat down on the armchair beside the dressing table, watching the glass intently, until the slimy green colour of the soup had vanished, at which point dropped in the strip of copper. After a few minutes had passed he carefully with a pair of tweezers, his hands protected by his black leather gloves, extracted the copper from the jar and carefully dropped it onto the paper which he had laid beside the jar and quickly secured the lid on the jar. It was clear, to both me and Miss Wilding that Holmes, from the shrug of his shoulder and deep sigh he emitted on observing his result, was disappointed, though neither of us could understand what the cause of his disappointment was, nor what work of science we had just witnessed.

When he had completed his experiments, and been sat down in Miss Alexandra's room, his head resting upon his breast, clearly in deep thought, with the expression of a man who knows what he is looking for but cannot find it or understand why he cannot, I happened to glance at the clock. 'Holmes!' I exclaimed, 'I a due to make a professional call within an half hour..'

'But Watson,' said Miss Wilding, looking up sharply, 'it's a Sunday. Surely even the most demanding of patients cannot expect you to see them on a Sunday?'

'Some, very few, of my patients,' said I, 'are too busy during the week to see their doctor. Therefore I sometimes I allow for very few of my patients to make appointments for me to call upon them during the weekend.'

Holmes looked up and frowned. 'You attend your patients Watson; I think I shall be able to complete my last inquiries without your assistance.' When he saw I that I was about to protest, he raised his hand and assured me that he would be long gone before any member of the Wilding household returned. With this assurance, I departed, secure that he would keep his word, and left him to his own devices in the Wilding home.

When Watson had left, Holmes returned to the drawing room to find that Miss Wilding was not there. Having a thought that she might have resorted back to the habit in which she was partaking before his and Dr Watson's arrival he went downstairs to the garden of the house and sure enough, there she was, standing in the June heat, barefoot and wrapped in her purple silk dressing gown, smoking. Holmes walked up and stood beside her and for a while they both stood there in perfect silence, Holmes inwardly wondering at why the revelation that this young lady smoked as frequently and doggedly as himself charmed him as much as it did. 'Why did you and your sister take your stepfather's name?' he asked, when he thought the silence had gone on long enough.

'It was at our mother's insistence,' she replied, 'she loved him so very much, and in such a consuming way, that she wanted to forget her first husband altogether and believe that Victoria and I were his children, not the children of our original father.'

'Who was he? Your real father?'

'His name was Dr William Hines. He was a great campaigner against the use of dangerous chemicals in household products. I regret that I did not know him very well; he died when I was only seven years old.'

'Do you get on well with your stepfather?' Holmes asked.

'You have so many questions, Mr Holmes,' she remarked, smiling rather sadly.

'Will you not tell me?'

'I could not, even if I wanted to. There consequences would be too great.'

'Very well.' Replied Holmes, which a note of regret and sympathy in his usually so reserved voice. 'If you shall not tell me, I shall tell you, based on what I have deduced. When Joseph Wilding first came into the sphere of your family, he, by his manners, handsome looks and excessive charm, attached himself to your mother, Ksenia, with such an effect that she disregarded all other areas of her life unless they related to him. She is more than simply in love with him, she breathes for him, she is obsessed with him. But her mature and possessive passion was not reciprocated. Rather, he was in the pursuit of another; that is, he was pursuing you, Miss Alexandra Wilding.' Her lovely dark head whipped round to face me and her ashen face showed the depth of her shock at Holmes revelations, until the realisation that he had really discovered the truth and was not bluffing struck her and she looked away, her face expressing the greatest shame. Holmes continued, 'After the marriage, he showed his true intentions and turned out to be a most persistent and determined lover to you, lavishing you with gifts and attention above all others, including your mother, even though I am certain that you yourself made it quite clear that his attentions were in vain.'

'Oh, but I did.' the young lady said softly. 'But soon it became clear that I would never be able to turn him away from me. I was in such a quandary. He always told me that there was no one, absolutely no one, who I could confide by trouble to. Who would take my word, that of a sheltered sixteen year old girl against that of a respected member of society, not to mention the financial community? Mother would never hear a single word against him, and Victoria would never have taken my word for it either.'

She began to move away, back towards the door, cigarette still in hand but she rapidly turned round, as if she was reluctant to leave, and faced Holmes and said in a honeyed breathy but pained tone. 'You must have a very low opinion of me, Mr Holmes.'

'It is rarely my place to consign judgement upon the actions of others, especially not someone such as yourself, who was in such an impossible position that any course of action would seem reasonable,' replied Holmes as moved towards her. In an unfamiliar gesture, but that lost none of its charm through that, she removed the cigarette from between her lips and reached up, the smouldering cigarette in hand, her endlessly deep dark eyes never leaving those of Holmes and placed it between his own lips. He took a long drag and felt the reassuring smoke fill his lungs and breathed it out again, slowly. She drew her hand back again and for a moment it seemed like Sherlock and Alexandra were the only two people on Earth.

'Did Mrs Wilding ever discover the true nature of her husband's affection for you?' asked Holmes quietly, breaking the moment.

Alexandra looked thoughtful. 'There was a while ago, I think it was the end of last year, an occasion when I thought she had. My stepfather had commissioned a bracelet to be made for me; it had my name engraved on it so it was clearly meant for me. Anyway, he used the usual jeweller who naturally assumed it was a present for my mother and so delivered it to her. Well, obviously she saw that it was for me and just came up to my room and gave it to me, saying that I obviously had made a friend of my stepfather and never said another word about it. I thought it was most extraordinary as in every other instance, mother had been most jealous of any drop of affection that my stepfather showed to any other woman than herself and so I naturally assumed that we were discovered and mother would proceed to lose her temper beyond all control or try and strangle me or some other act of desperate anger and jealousy.'

'May I question you upon another point?' Holmes asked.

'Ask me whatever you wish,' said she.

'When was the last time you left the house to attend an occasion such as a party or the opera, before the very first time you fell ill.'

'I think it was when I went to the opera at Convent Garden to see _Pelleas et Melisande_ with Victoria and her husband, well he was her fiancé then, Alfred Stoker. Well, I was supposed to, but when I arrived at the opera house, only Alfred himself was there. He told me that Victoria was unable to attend but he suggested that we stay and enjoy the opera, with just the two of us in attendance. I remember I had a most splendid evening. The only strange thing was later, when I mentioned my excursion to Victoria; she said that Alfred had mentioned nothing to her about going to the opera at all.'

Holmes frowned, 'I see. Did your mother find out about the little trip?'

'Yes, she was waiting for me when I got back. When I explained to her that Victoria had not been there, she had the strangest expression on her face for a moment and then sent me off to bed. It was not long after that, that mother insisted I change bedrooms.'

'She required you to change rooms, to the one you have now?'

'Yes, she said the room I was in then was too damp. She had already decorated it with that rather loud green wallpaper.

'It was she who decorate the room, with yourself having no say in it?'

'No. I had no idea that I ought to take an interest as I had no idea that I would soon be residing within it.'

'Thank you, Miss Wilding, I think I ought to leave as your family shall be returning from church at any moment now.'

And with that Holmes left the house, a small smile, typical of that produced when he had made progress in case, and a similar smile on the young lady whose eyes followed him, aware that she had also made progress albeit in a slightly different direction.


	4. O sole! Vita! Eternità

Later that day, after about five in the afternoon, having completed the few professional calls that had excused me from the Wilding household earlier, I visited Holmes again, eager to discover if he had shed any more light on this very strange affair that I had brought to his attention. As I walked up the stairs to his flat I was overwhelmed by the smell of the tobacco he was smoking. I could barely see him through the immense cloud of grey smoke that surrounded him, like an Asian sultan. 'Have you discovered anything,' I called to him, waving my hand in front on my face to clear the air. Very much and yet so little at the same time,' he replied, his eyes closed as if he was in some kind of trance. 'I have done some research about Mrs Wilding's first husband. His name was Dr William Hines. Miss Wilding informed me that he was a noted campaigner against dangerous products introduced into the home during the 1880's. My research yielded little more to enhance this, only revealing to me that his most virulent campaigns were against poisonous chemicals used to disinfect milk that would be ingested by very young children and the uses of poisonous gas in heating and lighting.'

When I finally got through the smoke and was close enough to see him, I could see that his face was one of a man who has made his decision about a case but cannot fathom a single factor within it which is critical. I sat down in one of the armchair he had left vacant. 'What about the rest of the family?' I asked. Holmes gave a little laugh.

'It is quite a set of characters in residence at the Wilding house. Mrs Wilding herself was a famous member of the Bolshoi Theatre Ballet until in 1878, when she was convicted in a Russian court in Moscow of throwing of oil of vitriol in the face of a love rival and fellow ballerina and causing serious disfiguring to the other dancer's face. After a short sentence she left Russia and came here, no doubt still as passionate and jealous as before.' Suddenly, his eyes flashed open and I knew that in that very moment all had become clear to him. 'Oh my, Watson,' he cried, 'I am the biggest fool in Christendom! The answer has been staring my in the face, literally, virtually since I took the case! How unusual for someone with as thorough a knowledge of poison to be bound by convention! Come Watson, we have very little time.' He stood up and grabbing his coat and beckoning at me to follow, swept from the room.

'What is it that we are rushing to Holmes?'

'The Wilding house, to prevent the greatest of crimes, I can only hope that we are not too late.'

'Too late for what?' Said I.

But like a writer who wishes the final climax of his tale to come as a complete surprise, Holmes, who always had a flair for the dramatic, refused to be drawn on the topic which had caused such a reaction in him and had us rushing to the Wilding house with all possible haste, which I noted, with some amusement despite the apparent severity of the situation we were now in, that I had been travelling at speed though London, in cabs for much of the last three days.

Before long, we had arrived at the Wilding house once again and we were quickly shown in. Holmes ran up the stairs towards the first floor, 'Come,' he called to Joseph Wilding and myself, who were both staring at him due to the emphatic and urgency in his tone. We followed Holmes up the stairs and heard him burst into the chamber of Alexandra Wilding, clearly with some protestation from her sister who was attending her, and we were all equally shocked when Holmes emerged from the room again, carrying Miss Alexandra, clad only in a filmy semi translucent nightdress, in his arms like a child. We were all shocked by her pale, painfully thin frame and her bloodless face, so opposed from the smiling, robust face we had seen earlier that very day. Holmes gestured to us to help carry her down the stairs and onto an amply cushioned sofa in the living room. It did not escape my attention that both my old comrade Wilding and Holmes himself all showed something rather like an excess of tenderness to the young lady in question. We were quickly followed by her sister, Miss Victoria who looked full of fear for her sister and surprise at the sudden actions of my friend. 'Do not fear,' said Holmes, addressing the distressed girl and her stepfather, as long as you, Miss Alexandra, keep out of your room at all costs, your life depends without a doubt on it.'

'Why,' asked Wilding himself, aghast, speaking what all of us were thinking.

'Yes.' Said Holmes sharply. 'Miss Wilding's bedchamber has been transformed into a cloud of poison. Come, I shall explain all,' said he, seeing before a mass of perplexed expressions. 'Where is Mrs Wilding and Mr Stoker,' he asked, realising that neither were in the assembled company.

'My mother and my husband have gone out,' said Miss Victoria Wilding from her sister's side, 'when we returned from church, she gave orders that Alexandra should be confined to her room, and that I was to ensure that she was never to leave it. Then, after ordering that lunch should be served, she left, she said she was going out shopping for some medicines for Alexandra and my husband volunteered to accompany her.'

'That is most fortunate, I was hoping to avoid a painful scene,' said he.

'What does all this mean Mr Holmes,' exclaimed Wilding.

'Ah yes, will you all follow me, Miss Victoria, I trust your sister can be left with you, so will you please excuse us.'

And so we all went upstairs into the chamber from which Holmes had just evacuated the two Wilding girls from. I ascended with the distinct feeling similar to that one experiences when entering a theatre, aware that one is within a venue in which the great actor can work his art.

'Please, Mr Holmes, can you give some explanation of what strange affair is happening under my very roof,' implored Wilding with a pasty face.

'I shall do so,' said Holmes, 'and explain the steps by which I solved this dark mystery. I shall start at the point which is hardest for me to reveal and for you to hear. Three times now, a single person has attempted to slay your stepdaughter, Alexandra, through the use of poison in such a subtle, sly and deliberate fashion.. This person is your wife, Mrs Ksenia Wilding.'

'That is preposterous!'

'I am afraid that it is so,' said Holmes grimly, 'and I fancy that you also know that it is not beyond your wife to act in such a cold way against a rival, even against a perceived rival.'

Wilding glanced at the floor. 'But why would she do such a thing?'

'Allow me to take you through the whole story. When you met and eventually married Mrs Wilding all of five years ago, I think that you scarcely knew what great passion and equally great hatred that she was capable of. Like Pandora, you opened the box of her heart with little reverence or understanding. I have relied on the information provided by Miss Wilding upon this point but it all seems to fit together.

'She spoke to you!' said Wilding, with a combination of anger and surprise in his voice.

'When she refused to tell me anything upon the point of her family situation, I told it to her, after which she was far more amenable.'

'Miss Wilding informed me that some months ago you allowed a bracelet intended for your stepdaughter to fall into the hands of your wife. When she realised the mistake and the reason behind it, it aroused her vindictiveness and jealousy. In revenge, she turned to none other than Alfred Stoker, the fiancé of her own daughter, to sate her need for vengeance against her husband. Mrs Wilding's jealousy of her daughter became murderous intent, when it appeared to her that both her husband and her lover were in love with her daughter, and she turned her mind to how she would rid herself of her rival, convinced in her madness that getting rid of her younger daughter would heal both of her mother's relationships.'

'It was then that she thought of arsenic, which has long been the tool of choice for those who wish to rid themselves of a troublesome relative. I suspected the use of poison, the moment Watson informed me that Miss Wilding had fallen ill with identical symptoms three times. Few illnesses behave in this way, but a persistent poisoner can produce a result such as that and when I was able examine Miss Wilding's fingernails and a sample of her hair, both which showed clear signs of arsenic poisoning, my conjecture became certainty. But Mrs Wilding had learned from her experience in Russia, in which she had been caught with little work on the part of the police, that subtlety in murder pays dividends. Then, she remembered a minor role her late husband William Hines had played in a campaign against wallpapers of a brilliant green which had been proven to contain highly dangerous amounts of arsenic. Arsenic is usually deployed in food, for which I performed a test on a single meal prepared for Miss Alexandra, which contained not a drop of arsenic. I deduced therefore, that she must have been using another method through which to let the poison reach its victim. I deduced that the source of the arsenic must be within the room itself which Miss Wilding occupied. My research of Dr Hines also revealed this to me and I realised that this emerald green wallpaper present in this room, is of the line that contained arsenic. All Mrs Wilding had to do what coat the walls of a room with this, move her daughter into it, and let the poison do its work.'

'Do you mean to tell me,' said Wilding indignantly, 'that my wife tried to kill Sasha, with wallpaper?'

'Yes.'

'But, how can one kill with wallpaper.'

'It's quite simple really,' said Holmes, 'the wallpaper itself creates arsenical dust within the room, and if the room has damp, like this one does, the damp and the wallpaper paste form a chemical reaction that creates fungi which can blast the most volatile form of arsenic into the very air the occupier breathes, leading to death by arsenic, with no one even detecting the source of the arsenic.'

Wilding and I were deeply shocked.

'Miss Wilding has her sister to thank for her previous two recoveries from the poisoning, as she had the presence of mind to remove her sister from this poisonous environment into a healthier environment. Indeed, every time Miss Alexandra moved herself out of this room for a while, she began to recover. Is there any other point on which you would like to question me?'

'Yes. How did you deduce that my son-in-law was pursing Sasha to become his lover?'

My friend sighed. 'Miss Wilding told me that just a few days before she first became ill, Mr Stoker was intended to take both her and her sister to the opera, but that her sister was unable to attend and so they were alone together. It was immediately clear to me that Mr Stoker had pretended that his fiancée Victoria was to attend and lied about the reason for her absence, when the real reason was that she had never been invited at all. Also, Mr Stoker's opera of choice was Pelleas and Melisande, which is about a woman who falls in love with her brother-in-law. It was all quite clear.'

'I thank you, Mr Holmes,' said Mr Wilding, 'you have saved my beloved stepdaughter from certain death.'

'That may be true,' said Holmes,' but I rather think it will be most appropriate for your stepdaughter to leave your care. I think you have caused her pain enough.'

There is scare little else to relate, how Holmes and I delivered the news to the two Miss Wilding's, the decision of the two of them that Alexandra should leave immediately and live with her sister, and the dreadful scene when Mrs Wilding and Mr Stoker returned to the house to find the living room filled with policemen whom Holmes had summoned, awaiting her return. She seemed most furious at the comprehension that she had been discovered and as the policeman made every effort to remove her from the building, she shouted such unspeakable things as I thought I would never hear pass the lips of a woman, let alone a mother.

As for Miss Wilding, after her recovery which took some months, as arsenic is a very potent poison, she entered music school and has become a highly regarded opera singer, and also, as the reader will surely remember, has become engaged to a man of great personal charm, and for whom I have the greatest respect.

* * *

Three days after Ksenia Wilding was revealed as a cold, premeditated poisoner, Alexandra Wilding answered the back door of her sister Victoria's home in Holborn in find none other than Sherlock Holmes standing on the doorstep, looking her with a combination of expectation and excitement in his silver grey eyes. 'Mr Holmes,' said Alexandra, a gentle smile on her face. 'I understand I have to thank you for saving my life.'

'How are you feeling?' Holmes asked tenderly.

'Much improved, since I have moved in with my sister Victoria who has shown me every care. What are you doing here?'

'I was rather wondering,' said Sherlock, quietly, 'that you could help me with something.'

Alexandra smiled knowingly and coquettishly inclined her head. 'How can I help you, Mr Holmes?'

He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear and without another word, but with another wide smile, she let him into the house.

* * *

**So, what did you think? I'm thinking of writing a sequel, either another mystery or a follow up to the relationship between Holmes and Alexandra. Let me know if you're interested.**


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